… two days later.
Since receiving my sign with turkeys and Hakuna Matata [read here], I have printed out my full manuscript for my young adult story. I edited the first 57 pages by Wednesday night and I wanted to keep the momentum going. I also think I’m subconsciously stalling with the query letter because query letters freakin’ suck. I know you guys feel me on that one. 😀
I’m kind of in this weird place at the moment though. My mind is split in two. On the one hand, I strongly believe in the message I received from my guides and the universe. I believe my destiny is to be a published author. I believe I will earn enough income where I won’t have to be working a full time job anymore. I ain’t greedy; it doesn’t have to be much. I keep saying to the universe “Just let it equal the amount I make now and I’ll be so grateful.” Just enough to be able to quit my job and not need to find a new one.
On the other hand, I’m a very practical, logical woman. This is all just a bunch of hoopla, juujuu, make believe. There’s no definitive proof this will be happening. It’s not set in stone. No literary agent or publishing company has given me a written contract “We will represent you!” So like… yeah I believe but also I can’t 100% believe until I do have that written contract.
I feel like a crazy person sometimes, putting all this stock into signs that might not even be real. But I want this so badly. I literally don’t know what else I would do if I don’t become a writer. My fiancé has suggested a couple of times I go back to school and I always reply “I have no idea what I’d go back to school for. I don’t want to waste money on a degree I don’t care about and then be stuck in another crappy job.” To which he always replies back “Yeah… don’t go back to school unless you know what it’s for.”
I suppose I could take some writing classes, but I don’t feel that my writing is bad. Also, the few writing courses I have taken felt too stiff to me. Even my Creative Writing class was too stiff, by the book, inside the box. Writing is supposed to be freeing. It’s supposed to be an expression of one self. Writing classes are so technical and leave a sour taste in my mouth. The whole “write what you want and then let’s dissect it” just leaves me irritated. I don’t write to have perfect grammar or to have a deeper, hidden meaning or to use symbolism. I write to express my desires. How cool would it be to live in this world? To have these powers? To be friends with these people? And what if X Y Z happened, how would I react? That’s why I write. So writing classes don’t really do it for me.
Anyway, I’m still feeling really excited about all this. I’m still feeling the high from receiving my signs. And I still feel like “I’ve got this. It’s in the bag.” I honestly think it’ll last me until I submit my query letter and (possibly) receive the rejection. My faith, belief and desperation for this to become true will carry me far. I’m also hoping I can manifest my own destiny. If I believe it strongly enough, it will become reality. That’s my plan here: Ignore the doubt lingering in my mind. Believe in myself. Take pride in the work I do. A literary agent will see the potential I have to offer. It’s all going to work out in the end.
That’s what I’ll keep telling myself. Hopefully five years down the road, I don’t come back to this and think What a putz I was. Lol. Thanks for the support and thanks reading!